


Nothing to Say

by stuffilikeiwrite



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, Drama, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Pre-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie), Stony - Freeform, Swearing, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:29:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24095872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stuffilikeiwrite/pseuds/stuffilikeiwrite
Summary: "Why areyouhere?" Tony spat, his tone laced with venom as he glared at the other man; arms folded defiantly across his chest.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Comments: 6
Kudos: 78





	Nothing to Say

"Why are here?" Tony spat, his tone laced with venom as he glared at the other man; arms folded defiantly across his chest.

“Do you _need_ to ask?”

“Yes. Yes, I think I _do_.”

A heavy sigh, shoulders slumped; head hung low in defeat. His expression so sad, forlorn and world weary it felt like an intentional guilt trip. Stood before Tony was a hollow out, exhausted shell of _Captain America himself_. Once a revered war hero and super soldier, now a vigilante. And that word left a bitter taste in his mouth even without him speaking it aloud; made his stomach sink.

"Tony, I--"

" _You_ are not welcome here. That’s on you," Tony cut him off, one hand gesturing its sharp dismissal before Steve had the chance to get any further; refusing to budge despite the harrowing sorrow in Steve’s eyes. “You fucked it up. You blew your shot.”

There was so much _animosity_ lingering between them, so much left unspoken; Tony’s usual snappy sarcasm traded in for a sharp; hurtful delivery. It had been brewing under the surface for years. At first, the tension had been something fiery and crackling; a pleasant edge of equal measures camaraderie and rivalry. Like electricity, like the air between them was buzzing with a near palpable charge. Add to that a tinge of _something else_ , something intangible that Tony recognized all too well but refused to put a name to. 

Sometimes, he'd imagined he could hint the same spark, the same intrigued attraction blazing in Steve's blue eyes whenever their gazes would lock. Steve would always end up either averting his stare in an instant, or continuing to keep eye contact until it became almost awkward; _unbearable_. Tony would always turn away at the point where his chest tightened, always brush it off as wistful thinking. Not that there was anything to wish for.

"I just want to talk to you," Steve tried again, licking his lips - shoulders heaving. “About _everything_. About this entire mess, it was a mistake, Tony.”

Tony promptly held up one hand to silence him.

“There’s nothing to say. You’ve made it pretty fucking clear where you stand.”

“Because you refuse to _listen_ to me!” an exasperated Steve shot back; throwing his arms out in plain frustration.

"Yeah, cause _that's_ what this is all about. Me not listening. As far as I know, I've been hearing you from the fucking start - you're the one who fucking _lied_ to me."

Steve rubbed at the full beard he had apparently been growing, running one tense hand thought his shaggy tousled hair; now dyed a sandy brown. Tony supposed it was intended as a disguise. 

"What was I supposed to do?"

Steve's mouth was hanging open as he breathed hard; chest heaving like he'd been running a marathon. Tony scoffed, a sharp sound through his nose. Not quite a snort, not quite a mock laugh. Just an intelligible choked noise. As intelligible as the jumbled mess of thoughts, feelings, and the headache of a nasty hangover making his head spin. Making his temples pulse and _throb_.

He was still sore from their brutal fight; still battered. Steve looked completely unfazed. Well, he was sporting a split bottom lip but that was a fresh cut. In one month; he'd had plenty time to lick his wounds and heal. He was superhuman, after all. Tony didn't share that particular blessing; instead he glanced briefly down at his own slowly mending, skinned knuckles. He knew there were still visible traces of a fading black eye lingering around the right socket; knew there were traces of cuts and dark bruises along his bare forearms and jawline. 

"You _knew_ and you didn't tell me. That would have been a good place to start; saying something. You _knew_ he killed my fucking mom. You purposely fucked up the idea of the Avengers as a team. You fucked this up; our family, and you have the fucking guts to come crawling back here? Are you that desperate to get your ass back behind bars, Rogers? You made your fucking choice, so _stick with it_. I’ve had it with your bullshit."

The tone was a hiss; vile, cutting, and straight to the point. This time, Steve flinched visibly; but he didn't back off. Didn't stand down. In fact, he resorted to taking a slow step towards Tony. Then another. _And another_. 

Meticulously closing the distance between them. Tony in turn scooted backwards; hands balling into tight fists, trembling with livid fury. He wanted to punch something; punch . Beat him to a bloody pulp. Something told him that this time, Steve just _might_ let him without putting up a fight. 

"I _told you_ it wasn't the right thing to do, I _told you_ we need our freedom. I told you loyalties can be swayed, don’t you think I’ve got a clue what I’m talking about here? Don't you think I saw enough of that going around during the war? As for Buck... you know he was brainwashed, he wasn't his own damn self. How can you blame him for it? You know what Hydra _does_!"

Steve sounded like he wanted to put some defiance behind the words, but was too exhausted to bother; too strung out. Ultimately, he fell flat in his delivery. Tony himself simply let out a humourless _'ha'_ as a response; a grimace of disgust colouring his weary features.

"I don't fucking care about him, this is about _you_. You let him get away with it, you went after _me_! This is about us, about the team. All of which you have shot to hell and back. Now, get the fuck out of here, or I'll turn you in. We're through, we have _nothing_ to say to each other," he snarled, and he _meant_ it - although at the same time, he felt his stomach knot up; fighting back the lump welling up to lodge itself in his already tight throat. "This is your last chance, and that’s me being _fucking nice_."

Steve paused then; as if there was an invisible wall fortified between them. His expression was one of abandon, blue eyes empty and glassy. Lifeless, as if they’d lost their inner light. Tony pursed his lips; he would not give in. Not only had Steve refused to sign the Accords, not only had he split up the team - he had _lied_. He had broken Tony's trust. It wasn't about the damned Winter Soldier, that race was _over and done with_. Tony had no interest in wasting his time and energy on that fiasco; this was about the betrayal. They had to keep a foundation of equal measures of trust for any sort of cooperation to function. 

Steve had burned those bridges; had lit them on fire and stepped aside to watch them go up in smoke willingly, dancing by the flames. And that was the worst part. That _hurt_.

Tony kept his face turned away; stubbornly ignoring the way he caught the waver in Steve's stance out of his peripheral vision. Noted how he tensed up, only for his posture to drop and his arms to fall slack to his sides again. Noted how he shook his head; would have had to be deaf not to hear the meek huff of somber abandon. 

"You have five minutes to haul ass out of here, Rogers. I mean it," Tony finally snapped; the silence itself grating on his eardrums and eating away at his sanity - or perhaps that was just the close proximity to Steve making itself known. Steve had always had a way of getting under his skin.

At that, Steve moved to take another step towards Tony, who immediately stopped him in his tracks as he held up his forearm to show off the wristwatch doubling for a com link; index finger hovering above it and ready to make good on his threat. Still, Steve didn't stop as he took another more shuffled, cautious step forwards; _finally_ speaking in a hushed, hoarse mutter.

"You're right. We _have_ nothing to say."

“Glad we agree on something, then,” Tony snarled, the pad of his index finger inching closer to its target.

And then, he was caught off guard.

If he'd been more perceptive, it would have taken Tony less than a second to realize he had exposed himself. Steve sprung into motion like a flash; grabbing each of the smaller man's exposed forearms just beneath the hem of the rolled up sleeves. He shoved Tony backwards the remaining couple of inches, and Tony felt the air getting knocked out of his lungs with an audible _oomph_ from the force as his back collided unceremoniously with the cold, rigid stonewall. Flexing his fingers and straining against the firm grip; he glared with a nasty sneer up at Steve. He was successfully trapped. 

And his proper Iron Man suit was still cracked open on the _‘operating table’_ in the cellar; for damage control and repairs. Sure, he _did_ have extras to spare, but at the same time - despite the fact that he could have just given F.R.I.D.A.Y. the voice command - he didn't _want_ to. He was faltering; his resolve waning. He opened his mouth but the words wouldn't come out; wouldn't even attempt to form, throat dry and scratchy. As if he’d lost the ability to speak coherently

"What the _fuck_ are you doing?" he finally heard himself growl, in a gravelly tone although he felt his heartbeat thumping wildly against his rib cage from the sudden adrenaline rush.

On top of that; he felt sore all over again, still tender bruises protesting against the unexpected manhandling.

"No words, you said. We have nothing to say to one another, so can’t you just _shut up_ for once?" rasped Steve in a quiet whisper; and when Tony finally met his gaze with a nasty glare; all he got in turn was vaguely insecure, sad blue orbs darting all over his face.

Confounded, Tony couldn't make sense of it. Not even as Steve melted into him; their bodies molding together - Steve radiating excessive amounts of heat. Now more than ever, he wanted a rematch to slap the shit out of _America's favourite boy scout_. Yet, there was the thick tension in the air that he hadn't felt for so _long_ ; the one he now realized he had sorely _missed_. The one that wasn’t cold and off putting; but intriguing and exciting. Now, it was his turn to attempt to shrink back and create some distance between them. 

_Anything_ , so as not to cave in to temptation; so as not to allow himself to admit it. Wrenching his body halfheartedly from side to side; he figured he might as well try to break free. Not that it would do him any good.

And then he was pinned completely in place. Steve's heavy, bulky frame pushing against his chest. Warm breaths gushing against his cheek. Tony opened his mouth to ask what the hell was going on - despite deep down _knowing exactly_ what the deal was - and before he got as much as a squeak out; there were lips on his. A warm, wet tongue in his mouth. He let out a pathetic, whimpering noise in surprise; dark eyes widening. At first, his body reacted by winding up until each muscle was strained and taught like a bowstring. Fighting the intrusion; despite the familiar burn of desire pooling into his loins telling him this wasn't something he really _wanted_ to fight off.

Steve's scent filling his nostrils; too much cologne and washing soap. A bit of musky sweat. The taste making him dizzy, going damn near cross eyed as his eyelids drooped; and his body relented little by little. One inch at a time; until his legs wobbled weakly beneath his own weight. And as soon as his arms slackened against their restraints, the fervent grip on them lost its edge. Let them go, in favour roaming Tony's body blindly; large hands _feverish_ in their longing for touch, for physical contact. _Starved_. Without thought, on reflex; Tony's own hands flew up to grab fistfuls of damp sweatshirt fabric and shaggy tufts of hair. It was only then that he felt himself relenting, abandoning thought to plunge head first into undiscovered territory.

A rough beard scratched against Tony’s top lip; his chin. The burn only served to _amplify_ the intensity. Made the kisses sloppier, wetter. More fluid, as Tony found himself clinging frantically to the other man; needing this like he needed air to breathe. A chance to resolve their situation, at least on a primal, _basic_ level. Tony forgot to be distant, forgot that he was supposed to despise Steve; letting the inescapable bolts of arousal surging through his body steer him until he tore an actual _moan_ from Steve's throat. God, he had _never_ heard Steve make a noise anywhere near expressing such urgent, undeniable _lust_ \- and he wanted to hear it again. Needed to hear it again.

His mind fixed on that very notion; he bit down hard on Steve’s already injured lower lip. Tasting the tang of iron. He shuddered in delight as he was rewarded a throaty groan; and his mouth was pried open again for another bout of assault. Now, it was _Tony’s_ turn to moan; as Steve ground their hips forcefully together.

It was only afterwards, that Tony realized how this hadn't actually solved _anything_. 

It had only _added_ to the confusion, the pile of dirty laundry, and the disjointed strain between them. Still he couldn't bring himself to regret it; not even when two weeks later, Steve returned with no words. Awakening the same animalistic need; grabbing him by the nape as he pried Tony's mouth open with his. He simply refused to think about it for too long, or in depth. If he _did_ , he feared he might lose his mind. Better to have _some sort of outlet_ to keep a rocky truce.

**Author's Note:**

> So, my second Stony based fic. Set after Civil War with all the unresolved animosity and tension still fresh. I love drama and dark takes on relationships, so here's one of those.


End file.
